


the most beautiful place in the world

by 221BFakerStreet



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor is so hopelessly in love, Connor is still learning how to human, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson is not actually bad at feelings for a single time, Hank is a big ole softie, Idiots in Love, M/M, SU - Freeform, Shippy Gen, hank deserves happiness, why isn't that a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 02:38:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15184904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221BFakerStreet/pseuds/221BFakerStreet
Summary: Connor asks Hank a question.Hank has an answer Connor wasn't prepared for.





	the most beautiful place in the world

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be shippy. If that's not your deal, that's cool. Just letting u know.

“What do you think is the most beautiful place in the world?”

Hank looks up at Connor from his newspaper, one eyebrow raised in question. Connor, for his part, worries for just a moment that Hank will simply ignore him. He doesn't; seems, in fact, to actually be thinking about it.

He looks out the window next to the kitchen table. Beyond the yard of their little house, the street is wet with the rain that's just died down to a sprinkle. Puddles have formed in the divots where the pavement has sunken in, and the sun can be seen reflected in them, little sparkles of something trying to break through. His paper long since laid on the table beside his coffee mug, Hank clears his throat and glances back at Connor.

Connor tries not to scan Hank. His human companion has become used to it, in all honesty, but Connor is trying his best not to intrude. Hank knows that he cares, and that is enough for Connor, most days. He cannot help it, though, when he gets nervous. It is easy, in these moments, to analyze every small thing. There is small comfort in going through the motions, though in this case it is short-lived. Hank's heartrate has increased just a bit, cheeks flushed, and he still hasn't answered yet.

Connor is broken out of his sequence of thoughts by the sound of Hank's gruff voice from across the table. That voice that calls to him, that has shaped so much of what he knows to be good and flawed and imperfectly human.

“Wherever you're happiest, I suppose.”

And Connor sits with it a while longer. He nods so that Hank knows he was listening, that he _heard_. But it's not until Hank gets up, Sumo trailing behind him and pausing at the threshold of the living room as though to wait for Connor- it's not until then that he gets it. He's started to stand, one hand on the table, when his gaze centers on Hank standing in front of the coat rack, trying his best to untangle Sumo's leash from two of their jackets and an umbrella. His regulator pump whirs fiercely, the sound of it dampening his aural processing units. His hand spasms, and he can feel the strange prick of tears at the ducts in his eyes. No reason for that, his base code tells him- he flushed his ocular system just yesterday.

“Connor, what the hell are you doin'?” Hank's face is pulled into that familiar expression of exasperated fondness to which Connor has grown accustomed.

He smiles then, as he moves to retrieve his jacket (another unnecessary thing, but it makes _him_ happy). The smile turns into a grin as Connor opens the door and steps outside, bumping his shoulder gently into Hank's as he goes.

“The most beautiful place in the world,” is his only real reply, and even Hank cannot hide his smile at that.


End file.
